The Best Laid Plans of Immortals,Witches, & Demons
by Medie
Summary: An Alternate Version of Archangel


TITLE: The Best Laid Plans of Immortals, Witches and Demons  
AUTHOR: M. Edison  
FEEDBACK: Oh yes please! Be gentle though. ;-)  
CATEGORY: Richiefic, AU, Archangel Fix  
RATING: PG  
SPOILERS: For parts of Archangel.  
SUMMARY: Richie remembers facing down Ahriman  
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters or concepts of Highlander or Charmed belong to me. Hannah   
does.  
  
The Best Laid Plans of Immortals, Witches and Demons  
by M. Edison  
--------------  
Cascade, Washington State   
May 17, 1998   
  
In the darkened room Richie Ryan jerked awake, a hand flying to his throat. Next   
to him, blissfully unaware of his sharp waking, Hannah slept on.   
  
Forcing his breathing under control, Richie looked over at his mortal girlfriend.   
  
It was almost impossible to believe it had been a year since the whole Ahriman thing had hit.   
  
A shiver ran down the young Immortal's spine as he remembered.   
  
--------------  
  
Paris, France   
May 17, 1997   
  
Richie hunched his head down into the collar of his jacket, trying to prevent the drizzling   
rain. "Are you *sure* this is the place you saw in your vision?"   
  
Hannah hooked a damp curl away from her face and nodded at the Immortals. "Very sure." She   
frowned. "I wish you'd left your swords in the car."   
  
Duncan smiled reassuringly. "Relax Hannah, I'm not going to lose control of my sword."   
  
"Don't be so sure." She countered in a curt tone. "Ahriman can make you see or hear whatever he  
needs to, anything to make you do what ever he wants. Kill anyone he wants."   
  
Richie thought back to the vision she'd had -- of MacLeod killing him. "We should work out some  
sort of strategy. Code word or something. Just in case he tries to convince one of us that the   
other's Horton or something."   
  
"Very good idea." Methos noted dryly. "May I suggest Slimer?"   
  
"Oh please don't tell me you're still skeptical about Ahriman?" Hannah groaned.   
  
"What do we need to do to prove it?"   
  
"This so-called demon appearing before me would do it." The ancient countered flatly. "In five   
thousand years, I've never seen one."   
  
"Well in 21 years, I've seen plenty of them and I can tell you, most of them walk around   
looking like you and me." Hannah argued. "Until you tick them off, then things get way freaky.   
Lotsa flying into walls and lightening bolts. Some of 'em even toss in a little fire and   
brimstone for effect."   
  
"Uh, guys, argument's over." Richie interrupted quickly.   
  
"What?" Methos looked over in the younger Immortal's direction and stared in shock.   
  
Red fog was billowing into the open area where they stood.   
  
"Ask and ye shall receive." Duncan muttered softly in Methos's direction.   
  
"Hold your ground." Hannah said firmly, hiding the tremor of her own fear.   
  
"Don't back down."   
  
By now, the fog had surrounded them.   
  
Unearthly laughter filled their ears.   
  
"I sincerely hope Joe stays with the car." Duncan said as a figure appeared before them.   
  
"So, the champion arrives..." The demon, to their shock, walked into view wearing a familiar   
face.   
  
Ahriman had chosen Darius's form.   
  
He sneered at them. "So many protectors MacLeod. A mortal witch among them. How pathetic."   
Ahriman pointed a hand at Hannah and she was lifted off her feet -- slamming back into the   
concrete wall of the building.   
  
Immediately, Methos rushed to the young mortal, feeling for a pulse.   
  
Finding one, he nodded at his friends.   
  
Richie's face filled with relief but MacLeod didn't move. The Highlander was staring at Ahriman,  
transfixed.   
  
"Mac?" Richie waved a hand in front of his mentor's face then hit him lightly on the shoulder.   
  
"He can't hear you boy." Ahriman's form wavered and he shifted into another familiar shape.  
Tessa. "He's completely under my control."   
  
Twisting her lovely features into a seductive expression, the demon sauntered over to the  
youngest Immortal.   
  
He stepped back slightly but Ahriman gripped his shoulder, holding him in place.   
  
Behind him, Methos stood and moved to intervene.   
  
"Oh, go away." The demon said almost casually, raising a hand.   
  
The ancient, in the manner of Hannah before him, flew into the wall and slid to the floor next   
to the unconscious witch.   
  
Richie tried to pull free to help his friend.   
  
"Forget him," Ahriman whispered in his ear. "He's of no consequence."   
  
He, struggling to pull away, looked over at MacLeod. "Mac! What the hell is wrong with you!?"   
  
Still as a statue, the dark haired Immortal didn't acknowledge his friend's pleas.   
  
"Forget him." Ahriman ordered in Tessa's soft voice. "He's not worth the energy." Sliding a   
slender hand across Richie's chest, the demon rested its chin on the young man's shoulder. "And  
what kind of a Champion is he anyway? Is *he* the best they could come up with? Frankly, I'd   
prefer a challenge, someone like you."   
  
Slipping a hand into Richie's coat, Ahriman pulled his sword free of its sheath.   
  
"Kill him. Take the Quickening. That's all he's good for."   
  
Richie shook his head, trying to clear it. Suddenly he was consumed with the urge to just do it.  
To take Mac's head. One clean slice...Perfectly natural... Taking the sword he raised it.   
  
Realization set in and he shook his head viciously, throwing the sword down.   
  
"No! I'm not going to kill my best friend!" He glared at Ahriman. "Go back to hell."   
  
Turning away, he knelt next to his girlfriend and his friend, trying to revive them.   
  
Rage exploded across the face he'd assumed, Ahriman stalked to Duncan's side. Stroking his hair  
and neck, the demon smiled sweetly, and whispered in the Highlander's ear.   
  
"Duncan, Ahriman's attacking Hannah and Methos. He's assumed Richie's form. Don't be fooled!   
You have to destroy him. Take his head!"   
  
To his foggy mind, it made perfect sense that his dead girlfriend was urging him to kill Ahriman  
who was pretending to be Richie.   
  
Pulling out his katana, the Highlander turned and advanced on his student, Richie never would  
have seen it coming if Methos hadn't revived at that moment.   
  
"Richie! Down!" The ancient's urgent warning sent Richie sprawling across Hannah, barely   
avoided beheading.   
  
Rolling off his girlfriend, he dove for his sword, tossing a curse Ahriman's way.   
  
The demon smiled widely, a maniacal look on his face.   
  
"Wake Hannah up!" The young man barked at Methos, just managing to get his sword up in time to  
block another killing blow only this one a hair's breathe away from his neck.   
  
Ignoring the fight, Methos bent over Hannah, rubbing her hands and patting her cheeks gently as  
he called her name softly, wishing fervently he had some smelling salts.   
  
Richie, meanwhile, was frantically trying to snap Mac out of whatever trance Ahriman had locked  
him into. He tried everything. Calling the Highlander's name, slicing at him, hitting him,   
nothing worked.   
  
But, even under Ahriman's influence, Mac was at the peak of his swordplay and Richie was  
outmatched. He could only continue to try and jolt Mac out of his zombie-like state as the   
Highlander disarmed him and raised his katana for the killing blow.   
  
---------------  
Cascade, Washington State   
May 17, 1998   
  
Opening her blue eyes, Hannah blinked sleepily. "Richie?" She murmured softly, pushing her   
curly hair away from her face and sitting up, yawning. "What is it?"   
  
When he didn't answer, she rested her chin on his shoulder and slipped an arm around his body.   
  
"Dreaming about Ahriman again?" She prompted.   
  
"Yeah." Richie answered absently after a moment's hesitation.   
  
"He's gone, Rich." She assured. "Vanquished. Caput. And should he ever try and come back, we'll  
eighty-six him again, just like we did the first time." Her grip on him tightened as she  
remembered those first few moments of consciousness.   
  
----------------  
Paris, France   
May 17, 1997   
  
When Methos's voice intruded into her unconscious mind, she reluctantly awoke and promptly gasped   
in horror. MacLeod had backed Richie into a wall and was about to deliver the killing blow.   
  
Automatically, she raised her hands...  
  
And everything froze.   
  
Except for Hannah.   
  
Rising shakily to her feet, the young witch moved slowly to where her bag had fallen when she'd  
been thrown.   
  
"Hannah?" Joe Dawson walked in, having been concerned when they didn't return as soon as   
expected, to find the majority of the room's occupants frozen. Methos in a crouching position,  
Richie backed against a wall, Duncan about to take Richie's head and Ahriman watching in glee   
- still looking like Tessa - "What the hell is going on?"   
  
Hannah pulled a silver urn out of her bag and turned to face the Watcher. "Things didn't go as  
planned."   
  
"No kidding." Came the Watcher's dry comment.   
  
She surveyed the frozen figures before her. "Joe, gimme a hand here please."   
  
With that request, she set down the urn and walked over to Duncan.   
  
A confused Dawson joined her. "How'd Tessa get here?"   
  
"That's Ahriman. He changes forms. Picks one you'll let close. Or one to drive you round the   
bend. That's how he convinced Mac that Kronos and Horton were alive." Hannah grabbed Duncan's  
arm. "Help me move him."   
  
Between the two of them, they managed to maneuver the Immortal so that his sword was lined up   
perfectly with Ahriman's neck.   
  
Stepping back, Hannah picked up the urn and stood next to Joe then, flicking a hand, she let   
normal time resume.   
  
Richie, realizing the imminent blow had not arrived, opened his eyes and smiled widely as   
Ahriman's expression turned to horror right before MacLeod's sword sliced neatly through his  
neck.   
  
The minute he did so, Hannah opened the urn and started the spell.   
  
"*Outside of time, outside of gain, know only sorrow, know only pain.*"   
  
A Quickening-like effect began to swirl, only unlike a quickening, the energy flowed into the   
urn leaving nothing behind. When the last of it had vanished inside, Hannah clamped the lid on  
the urn.   
  
"Well," Methos announced after a moment. "That's done."   
  
---------------  
Cascade, Washington State   
May 17, 1998   
  
Sitting there, holding each other in the darkness, the young couple shivered but the shiver   
wasn't one of cold.   
  
"I've never been so scared as I was that night." Hannah admitted quietly. "I thought I was going   
to lose you...If I'd been a second later waking up..."   
  
"Then I'd be haunting Methos and everybody with glee." Richie joked weakly. Leaning his head   
against hers he sighed. "I was scared too. Thought we were both going to die...and I wouldn't  
get to say good bye."   
  
"I worry about that too." She confessed. "Every time you go out that door to fight, or I go out  
that door to fight a demon." She smiled faintly. "Even when you're a psychic witch you worry   
about the future. It can't be helped."   
  
Together they slid down into the bed, wrapping their arms around each other.   
  
"Tell ya what," His mortal girlfriend said after a moment. "You leave the demon-hunting to me  
and I'll leave the Immortals to you, k?"   
  
"K." Richie agreed, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Go to sleep." He murmured softly.   
  
She mumbled an affirmative accompanied by an "I love you." and snuggled her head against his   
chest.   
  
"Love you." Her Immortal love responded, holding her gently. He felt it when she drifted off but   
his thoughts kept him awake for a few moments. It was one thing to agree to not brood over the   
threats each of them, Hannah in particular, faced but it was another thing to actually do it.   
  
He could no more stop worrying about her being killed by some kind of demon (Or an Immortal   
after him) then he could forget the things he'd seen. Once you've seen what really goes bump in   
the night...It's impossible to forget.   
  
Finis 


End file.
